


Burdens

by Ahria



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-28
Updated: 2010-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 11:51:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahria/pseuds/Ahria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin mourns the loss of life brought on by in the season three finale, Arthur notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burdens

**Author's Note:**

> This is set between season three and four. 
> 
> Written for the LJ community "Album Mix".  
> Theme: "I want to be there for you, someone you can come too." Lyric by Flyleaf

Two months had passed since he had slain the dragon.  Two months and three days since Morgana had been kidnapped without a trace.  Most things were slowly returning to normal.  As normal as things could be, anyway.  Everything except for Merlin.  It had started gradually, almost unnoticeable.  Sometimes his smile would be a little late.  Sometimes his voice would be too soft.  Then the distance between them started to grow.  Merlin almost never called him Arthur anymore, always addressing him formally instead.  Then the joking stopped, the smiles grew faint and he rarely spoke without prompting.  Anytime Arthur asked about it, Merlin would brush it away with a shadow of his old grin and an excuse of work to be done. 

Sometimes, the prince wondered why a servant finally acting as he should bothered him so much.  Sometimes, he would regret that they could never truly be friends.  Mostly, he just wanted the idiot to go back to normal.  It was a constant he’d come to rely on, whether it was proper or not. 

Arthur watched Merlin’s expressionless face as he started a fire and wondered what to say.

*

Merlin had so many burdens on his shoulders now.  So much blood on his hands.

Morgana (It didn’t matter if it had to be done, or if Morgause had saved her.)  His father.  Freya.  Will.  It was selfish, but those were the four that weighed most heavily on his mind. 

49 men, 27 women, dead. 18 women and children, unaccounted for (everyone knew what that meant, especially after all this time). 12 of Camelot’s best knights, dead.

Some were less his fault than others, but it didn’t matter.  His own choices, his own weakness had led to their deaths.  Merlin made sure to mourn them every single day.  After finishing his evening chores, he’d leave the prince to sleep and sneak away, climbing to the highest point of the castle he could manage.  He needed the view to remind him, to help ease the weight of all those lives.  He had done everything in his power to keep Camelot standing, to keep Arthur alive.  Sometimes he could almost convince himself that the sacrifice had been worth it.  On particularly bad days, he pretended that he was going to tell Arthur.  Pretended that Arthur would understand, would thank him.  Then a bitter laugh would escape and he’d mock his own foolishness. 

Sitting on a ledge, feet dangling over the side, he would think of all of them.  After weeks of effort, he stopped crying every time he listed them.  Scooting as close to the edge as he dared, he sighed.

*

Arthur was tired of it.  It didn’t matter that Merlin hadn’t really been shirking his duties any more than normal.  In fact, he was probably doing a better job now then he had in his entire employment.  The problem wasn’t going away and Arthur was determined to solve it.  He waited until his manservant left, careful to remain unseen, and followed him through the castle.  He expected Merlin to return to Gaius’ chambers.  His plan was to speak to him there, hoping the less formal setting would put the young man at ease.  Instead of doing what was expected of him (at least that hadn’t changed), Merlin continued walking until he reached the battlements.  Baffled, Arthur watched him climb up and settle on the ledge.  As he gazed out at the country side, Merlin’s expression turned completely foreign.  There was too much guilt on his face and his eyes looked much too old.  It seemed certain at that moment that the boy Merlin had been was going to disappear entirely and be replaced by this dark, forlorn stranger.  It was too much.  It was unacceptable.  It was _wrong_.   

As he was about to come out of hiding and demand an explanation, Merlin began to lean forward.  Panic set in as Arthur, unthinking, darted out and grabbed the back of his manservant’s tunic.

Dragging Merlin off his perch and dropping him on the ground, he growled out “What do you think you are doing?”

The younger man looked vaguely surprised and then polite as he got to his feet.

“Did I forget something, sire?” he asked, trying to look abashed.

“What were you doing up there?” Arthur demanded.

“Just resting.” He replied, heading towards the stairs.  “I should get to bed if you want me on time, my lord.”

Grabbing Merlin’s shoulders as he passed, Arthur pushed him back to where he’d been standing.

“Were you going to jump?” the prince asked quietly.  Merlin’s surprised laugh and look of genuine confusion soothed his panic, if only a little.

“No!  I just like the view.” The manservant answered.  “Besides, who would look after you if I were gone?”

“There’s been something wrong with you of late.” Arthur insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.  When Merlin said nothing, he continued, “You could, you know… talk to me about it?” and tried not to sound as awkward as he felt.  For just a moment, he saw relief in Merlin’s face as he opened his mouth.  Then that same dark look, the one Arthur already hated, filled his eyes and he moved his mouth into something that vaguely resembled a smile.

“I miss Lady Morgana and the knights we lost, sire.  I’m just the same as everyone else.” He answered finally and gave a small bow.  Arthur didn’t stop him this time as he walked past.  “Good night, Prince Arthur.” He murmured before disappearing down the stairs.

He didn’t miss the subtlety of Merlin’s words.  _If you weren’t a prince, we could be friends.  If you weren’t the prince, I would not lie to you._ Arthur was tired of being too much a prince for the people he cared about to stay close to him, but not enough of one to make his father happy.

As he watched Merlin go, he saw the choice that lay before him.  The choice that Gwen wanted, the one that Merlin needed, the one his father abhorred.  Leaning against the cool stone of the wall, he felt completely lost for the first time in years.


End file.
